How the Story Ends
by 24-7reader
Summary: Bella goes to college in Chicago in an effort to escape from her inane life and, while cleaning out an old house, finds a diary written by Edward Masen. What will a certain Cullen do when he finds out? All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer
1. New Life

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The start of a new story! Just a few comments and then you can go and enjoy.

**1) This story is co-written by Prongs J. Potter and 24-7reader.**

**2) This idea was stolen with the permission of Diamond Skin. The basic idea was theirs and we (with their consent) ran with it.**

**3) The characters belong to a book called Twilight which I'm sure you've read (otherwise you wouldn't be here ;) ) and so Stephenie Meyer owns them. **

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I stepped out of my aging vehicle and stared at the ruins that were to be my home.

"Figures," I muttered.

I should have known, of course, that any house my parents offered to buy me could not be expected to hold any worth, but this absolutely reeked of ridiculousness. I wouldn't be surprised if they had bought the cheapest house in all of Chicago.

The house used to be white, I think, but due to the chipping of the paint the original color had become nearly impossible to know for sure. The roof only had half of its singles and looked ready to collapse. Remnants of what must have been a beautiful porch in its prime littered the front of the house, causing it to resemble nothing more than a potential home for every kind of vermin within a five-mile radius. The front door continued to hang from its hinges, thank goodness, but half of the windows around the house were either seriously cracked or completely broken altogether.

I slowly walked up to the front door, carefully treading through the deteriorated porch, quickly becoming grateful for the credit card Renee handed me before I had left. She instructed me to use it for basic repairs and any furniture needed, and to think I had considered her generous for it!

As I stepped into the house, I realized the inside looked no better. The building contained two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a living room. The furniture was old and crumbling. The floor seemed smothered in a hundred years' worth of dust and debris. The only item of remote worth was an upright piano sitting in the corner – dirty and battered, though I suppose beautiful in its own… unique… way.

I quickly assessed each room. I could barely even walk into the bathroom for all the dirt, grime, rust, and general decay. The kitchen wasn't quite as bad – it only needed to be cleaned up, scrubbed down, updated, and cleaned again. Running water did come to the house, for which I was grateful, although the slightly reddish tint to it caused me to quickly reconsider the drink I had thought I needed.

The living room appeared decent enough, though the hardwood floor was, of course, rotting. Luckily, the decay wasn't to the point of instability, and for that I could give thanks. Plus, I couldn't see the sky from indoors, although the large, moldy wet spots on the ceiling definitely indicated where I would need to place buckets the next time it rained.

The bedrooms, like the rest of the house, were in horrible shape, excepting one cedar chest that looked remotely usable. I rummaged through the smaller bedroom, looking for some clue as to how long the house had been uninhabited.

I discovered two photographs sitting atop a rotted bookshelf, all three of which ravaged away with time. Every face was obscured by age, but I could just barely make out three distinct figures. I set them aside. Next to the photos lay a journal, quickly capturing my attention. I gently opened to the first page:

_Property of Edward Mason_

_March 1916_

I laid down the journal and walked out of the room.

_Great, _I thought with a scowl. _My parents bought me a house that hasn't been lived in or, more importantly, cleaned in 90 years._

I attempted to display some forgiveness, though. I understood Renee and Phil's reasoning - they just wanted me out of the house. I would have unburdened them sooner by moving with my real dad, Charlie, but he died several years ago. My only chance to get away was moving out for college, which I took pains to do a year early. My mom and step dad were so proud they decided to pay for my college and housing, which is where I found myself now. They probably didn't get the chance to look into what they bought me. The cause of the situation I found myself in was not any form of neglect… no, it was just unfortunate circumstances. Sure. That's what I'll go with.

A very itchy nose followed by a violent sneeze interrupted my thoughts. As I made my way out, I began to make a list of all I needed in order to live in such a place.

Looking behind me as I shut the front door, I could clearly see every footprint made.

This was going to take _a lot_ of work.

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**Now of course, we need you to do one thing. Tell us your thoughts! Click the green button and write something please!**


	2. War

**Another chapter! I know I've made you guys wait too long. Maybe you're angry with me. I'm afraid the co-author thing didn't work out so well. You'll probably notice the gradual change in writing. I still give her credit though! Prongs J. Potter is amazing. Also DiamondSkin also gave us the inspiration. Sorry for the delay, hope you enjoy it!**

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That night I slept in my car, like any self-respecting person would do in the situation I currently found myself in. When I woke up the next morning I didn't even bother entering my house; I simply brushed my hair and drove to the nearest store with cleaning supplies.

I very nearly cleared out the entire cleaning aisle. I wasn't sure exactly what I would need, so I got a year's supply of everything.

When I returned "home" I immediately waged war. I started with the windows, simply because I thought they would be the easiest, and I didn't like the brownish tint to the rooms which caused the house to look even more ancient. Score one for me.

Two hours of ceaseless scrubbing later, I pulled out the duster and got to work on the seemingly infinite cobwebs. Many times I was grateful for my lack of fear towards bugs; otherwise I'd be living out of my car for the next few years. But I did have cans of raid strategically placed throughout the house for quick access.

I must admit that I probably should have spent my time doing something more productive, like scouring the bathroom, but I found myself spending part of my afternoon dusting and cleaning the piano. I even called a tuner to come by in a few days to put it back in key. I couldn't even play, but something about that instrument mesmerized me.

As I dusted there was a sudden prick in my palm. I checked it hastily and found a sizable piece of ancient wood lodged into my skin. I shuddered. I pulled it out carefully but bit back a scream as I felt the ragged edges catch on my skin. Blood welled up from the cut, blocking my view of the skin. I ran to the sink, and then stopped. Placing my hand in rancid water after being infected by contaminated wood wouldn't be the brightest idea. Score one for the house.

I wrapped up my hand as best I could and drove to the nearest place with a decent bathroom, fighting the nausea and dizziness that seemed to always follow any encounter I had with blood. It was a small café. Hurriedly making my way to the restroom I placed my hand under the clear water. I sighed in relief to see that none of the fragments from the wood remained in my skin. I walked back out and took in my surroundings.

It was a cozy café. Small, so it must not receive too much business, but the tables and counters were clean. The lighting gave off a comfortable atmosphere against the dark wood floor and walls. I smiled; I could see myself enjoying a good book in the warm mood and delicious smell of bread and coffee.

I started towards the door when I noticed the empty table with steamy cups of coffee, as if someone left them untouched in a hurry. I thought back to my entrance. There was someone there when I came in. A boy with blond hair and a girl I think, but I hadn't paid much attention. What could make them leave in such a hurry? I shrugged it off and went back home.

I did a quick sweep of the house, putting the piles of dirt and now unusable rags into a trash bag. I decided to fog the house overnight. Perhaps I could get the bugs to retreat for a day, maybe even two, so I set up the cans. The war was only just beginning and I wasn't exactly sure of who was winning. On my way out, I once again noticed the journal lying on top of the chest. I picked it up and quickly left the house.

As I sat in my car that evening, I contemplated my current situation. I had called a plumber, but until I had clean water, I need to find a new place to bathe. I settled on simply washing my hair in some sink nearby, perhaps the tiny café I had found. I felt a bit embarrassed about it, but it needed to be done. I comforted myself that it was only for a day or two anyway.

Later that evening, I once again found myself sitting, bored, in my car. I was having trouble sleeping and I was sick of my only hazy view of the stars. I needed something to distract me.

My eyes drifted to the journal on the seat beside me. Sighing, I picked it up and, with a flashlight, began to read.

March 23, 1916

"Dearest" Journal,

I cannot believe mother actually bought me a journal for my fifteenth birthday. Of all the things to purchase, it had to be this.

There are so many other items I would have gladly received! A gun, for instance. I believe I am capable of handling a weapon. Or she could have purchased a compass; a compass would have been delightful. As a matter of fact, she could have bought me a game of jacks and I would have been more content.

But mother is so absurd! I understand what she is trying to do with this journal; she is under the impression that I do not have enough friends. But I do not wish to be friends with the majority of my peers, they all think the same. They are unoriginal and dull. I do have a few friends, however, and that is plenty for me. William, for example, is an excellent companion.

But there I go rambling incessantly about trivial things like the girl my mother seems to be trying to turn me into.

I believe I shall stuff this piece of wretchedness under my bed. I am ashamed to even admit I wrote in this.

Edward

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**I hope you liked that. I promise not to leave you hanging for so long like last time! **


	3. A New Friend

**As promised I did not wait as long. Hope it is worth the wait.**

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I woke up with crusty eyes and nose, coughing up dirt. I groaned as I tried to rub my eyes. It hurt to even open them, trying to clear away the eye crust from my vision scraped across my eyelids. I groaned again and sat up. Immediately my nose became runny.

"Just great," I muttered, "A few more days of this and it'll just kill me."

I got out of my car rather stiffly and walked into the house to assess what needed to be done. Bugs littered the floor, half of them I recognized, the other half I didn't think I wanted to know.

I decided the store would be the best option for a mask, a bigger broom, more washrags and medication. So I got in the car once again and drove to the store. I was in the meds aisle, debating between Benadryl and Nyquil, when I heard someone say, "Cleaning, right?"

I turned to see a girl a few years older than myself with curly, dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes and somewhat pale skin. In my sick state I was in no mood to appreciate her consideration to talk to a complete stranger. I nodded as a reply and turned away.

"I'd go with the Benadryl personally," she said, not dissuaded by my disinterested behavior, "Especially if you're in for a long cleaning bout."

"Thanks," I muttered, tossing a few packs in my cart.

"Relatives coming in?" she asked.

"No," I drew a long breath, "_I'm_ trying to move in. 'Don't worry about it Bella, we bought you a nice house outside the city. It might need a few repairs, though'. The house should be torn down; it's in such bad shape. I spent all day trying to clean it and it still looks bad." My rant abruptly ended in a cough, which reminded me to buy Kleenex and cough drops.

I turned the cart around and faced the girl, "Sorry, I'm not usually like this. I think I better go."

"Newcomer, eh?" she smiled, "I'm Elizabeth, Lizzy for short. What brings you here?"

She held out a hand and I shook it, "My name's Bella and I'm going to the college near here. Although you could also say I came here to get away from my parents. That's the last time I let them pay for my house. I shouldn't have even considered letting them in the first place and now look where I am. On the outskirts of Chicago about to start college with a house that's a health hazard and no one to contact. I-" Again I was cut off but this time by Lizzy's bubbly laugh.

I glared defiantly at her until she stopped and said, "I'm sorry, it's not funny." I raised an eyebrow. If it was anyone else's situation but my own I'd be laughing too. I decided it was better to laugh about it than grow more frustrated and joined her.

We continued through the store and found that we were going to the same college and would have some classes together. By the time had gone through the check out line we had become fast friends.

"I know a good café just a couple blocks from here. Do you want to meet me there in two days time?" Lizzy asked as we said good bye.

"I'd love to!" I said enthusiastically. "Anything to get me out of cleaning."

When I got "home" I started tackling the living room and kitchen, thinking I would spend most of my time there. I took out all the rotted furniture and put it in the backyard, determined to torch it the moment I could.

The sun was setting when I finally got the four sleeping bags and the journal out of my car and into the living room, which I deemed worthy enough to sleep in.

I had to admit it was nice to finally lay flat on a hard surface instead of crammed into a car. I sighed contently and pulled out the journal.

March 25, 1916

Dear Piece of Wretchedness,

I hate to find myself once again writing, but mother found it necessary to read what I had written. When confronted about it I calmly responded that I was told journals are private matters and since it was my gift I could do what I pleased with it. This deeply upset mother and father looked as if I had just insulted everything he owned.

In my own personal opinion I believe this matter has been taken far beyond absurdity. This worthless pack of paper should be laying forgotten under my bed until it crumbles to ashes.

To please mother it seems I will have to write in this in their presence. Does that not sound enthralling?

Mother is still looking at me and father is peeking over his paper so I shall have to write more. How about a story of when I was nine?

At the time I was not the brightest kid. Mother would disagree but what mother would claim to have a dumb kid? I might not have been the brightest but I was a good climber and a fast runner.

With encouragement from my peers I climbed to the roof of my house and decided to run and jump into one of our apple trees. Father saved me from a nasty fate with the tree but I had built up so much speed that when he called to me I tripped and fell off the roof, breaking my arm. I realize I would have never made the tree but at the time I blamed him for ruining my fun.

Mother has stopped watching and I hoping that I will not have to start writing again soon.

Edward

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**Please review!**


	4. Thief

**New Chapter. Hopefully my chapters will come sooner. My schedule 'should' be lighter. At least I hope so :)**

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After two days of endless battle with my house it was time to meet Lizzy at Theo's Café. I gladly jumped in my truck to go somewhere besides the store for supplies. It was a relief to have someone to talk to and something to do besides cleaning and reading a journal that's ninety years old. Although I immensely enjoy reading the journal and it had become a nightly routine to read at least one entry.

It felt that I could connect with Edward Masen, crazy as it seemed. With each sentence that I read I grew more captivated and entranced. He was no longer a pack of papers but became a human being, albeit one I'll never actually know. I was eager to share this with Lizzy.

I pulled up to the small café. It wasn't out of the ordinary. Glass windows covered the front, showing a pleasing look of the inside. There were iron tables and chairs outside under an awning. On the doors was a sign that promoted free WiFi. I smiled as I realized this was the same place I had run to when I cut my hand.

Lizzy sat outside in a corner away from the crowd. She wore sunglasses even though it was quite cloudy and sipped an iced coffee. She waved to me as I approached.

"Hey Lizzy!" I said once I reached the table, "I wasn't sure I came to the right place."

"Yep, this is Theo's Café. Home of amazing food and excellent coffee." I sat down and a waiter came over.

"What can I get you?"

"I'll have a caramel iced latte," I told him without glancing at the menu.

He left and Lizzy asked, "So how's cleaning? Have clear water yet?"

"The cleaning has been tedious but at least I'm not living in my car as much. The plumber comes tomorrow, so cross your fingers." I said with a shrug. "Two goods things came out of my parents buying me a decrepit house. One, I got to meet you and two, I found a really neat journal." I pulled out the leather bound pages and handed it to her.

She looked disinterested but too polite to say anything. She flipped to the beginning of the book, " 'Edward Masen…1916'. So your house is at least ninety years old and it's still standing?"

"I'm just as surprised and if I had my will, I would tear it down and live in the college dorms." I shrugged indifferently. I took back the journal, placing it carefully away from the drinks. I wanted to tell Lizzy all about how I ran to see the places he mentioned in the journal. The apple trees and the old swing set, but I knew even if I did, she would think it was silly.

The rest of the conversation was about harmless, almost meaningless stuff; college and which classes I have gone to already and what kind of assignments I got. Soon the day grew late and Lizzy admitted she needed to get home.

"Come over anytime you need to shower," she said.

"Don't think I won't take you up on that offer!" I said with a laugh. I looked at the journal, wanting to bring the subject back up. "You know, it really is fascinating to read what he wrote in there; to find out how life was back then."

Again she put on a polite mask and replied, "Not all of us like history Bella. You don't even know if this Edward Masen really exists." With that she left and I was left to finish my iced latte and ponder alone.

I didn't get anywhere before someone interrupted my train of thought, "Excuse me, ma'am but I believe that belongs to me."

I looked up, startled and suddenly forgot how to breathe. In front of me was a pale, bronze-haired, dark-eyed boy around my age. He was paler than me and, to my surprise, was pointing at the journal.

"You must be mistaken for that journal is surely mine." I replied as politely as possible.

Then the wind changed and blew at my hair. I noticed the intruder's eyes go flat black, his face hostile. I leaned away from him.

Before anything else could be said, he grabbed the journal, ran and jumped into a shiny silver Volvo.

Taking off with _my_ journal.

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**Hope you liked it!**


	5. Surprise Visit

**I had a free week these past seven days and I had all these plans. I was ready to work on this story and finish up my other one. I was so excited. I got almost three chapters done. As I was uploading them to my computer the worst thing happened. It told me that all my files were corrupt. Three chapters lost! X( I wasn't too happy about that. Sorry I couldn't give you more. I hope you like this chapter.**

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I was not about to let that thieving jerk get away with my journal. He may have been fast, but he was certainly not fast enough and traffic was on my side I, too, jumped in my car and was quickly on his trail.

I was careful enough to stay far back, and we soon arrived at his apartment. I parked on the other side of the street and silently watched him enter into the third floor door.

I wanted nothing more than to barge right up there and kick his door in, but I restrained myself when I saw other shadows moving around his rooms.

Perfect. The thief lives with his mummy. How can I use this to my advantage?

Of course, I want to upset his entire family; that would be the perfect revenge. I decided to wait until his entire family was home and sleeping before coming to 'visit'.

Not wanting to look too suspicious I chose to drive off, after quickly memorizing his address. I went to the dollar theater and saw a movie to calm down, but to no avail. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets with its own journal left me more frustrated than before. Then I ate, though that did nothing to quail my outrage.

Running out of things to occupy my time, I finally decided to simply sit in my car and wait until the allotted time.

Finally two a.m. rolled around and I jumped from my car and very nearly ran to the door. Naturally I tripped on the curb, but managed to catch myself before I fell.

Now fully enraged again, I climbed the stairs and pounded my fist on his door.

"It's for you!" called a female voice.

The door opened to reveal a girl around my age (though a bit shorter). She was smiling widely and practically bouncing on her heels. She quickly stepped back to allow me to walk in. I frowned, she seemed familiar.

I was shocked to find a large number of young people lounging around the room watching the TV. The oldest was a golden haired man in his early twenties. He was sitting next to a caramel haired woman who had a heart shaped face. Sitting near them was a blonde boy. He had an empty seat next to him, which I presumed belonged to the girl who had answered the door. On the other couch was an extremely muscular looking man. He had his arm around a model-like blonde.

They all looked like movie stars and for a moment I was tempted to turn around and walk out, but then I caught sight of him.

There he was, the bronze haired boy, walking towards me, journal in hand.

Once again, I had to fight the urge to drown in his now honey-colored eyes. He smiled pleasantly, nearly causing my knees to turn to jelly. Shaking my head slightly, I stuck out my hand.

"Hand it over." I forced out. A confused look came over his face.

"What?" he asked.

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about!" I said, quickly remembering my anger, "Now give it back."

"I'm afraid I do not know what you're talking about." I clenched my fists together.

"That journal!" I exclaimed, pointing, "Give it back! It's mine." I could see him becoming irritated.

"Your journal?" He questioned, voice raising in volume.

"Yes"

"It's not as if you wrote it!" he exclaimed.

"It was in my house! And it's not as if you wrote it either!"

"Oh yeah?" he retorted.

I paused for a second, confused at his comment. Irritation was practically rolling off him in waves, and I was fighting the urge to simply snatch the journal back and run away.

"At any rate," he said, interrupting my thoughts, "You are not going to get it back, so if you would kindly leave, it would be greatly appreciated."

The nerve! In anger, I turned on my heel and stomped out the door. I hadn't even realized until I reached my car that I had never received what I had come for.

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**Ah, first impressions. :) arent they grand. What will happen to our favorite couple. Stay stuned to find out. :P Please review! **


	6. Guess Who

**Sorry about such a small update. I'm leaving for two weeks and so I wanted to get this out for you guys (Aren't I nice? :P) Hope you like it all the same!**

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The next day I woke up with a sour taste in my mouth and a headache pounding me against the floor. The anger had obviously not dissipated over the night.

I dressed furiously, ready to drive to his apartment and steal it back. I was in my car when I realized I had class this morning at 11:00.

I looked at the clock. It was already 10:15, and I had no chance of making it to his apartment and then to my class in time. I groaned loudly and headed for school, perhaps English would help me calm down. Nothing goes according to plan, though, and to my great festering annoyance we were studying the Diary of Anne Frank. Out of all the books we could be reading, it was that one.

I spent most of the time mentally hitting myself. Why did we have to read this? Stupid Murphy's Law. It ruled my life completely. I was grateful when the class finally ended and I could go home. I thought about my chances of finding his apartment empty, but with seven people living there, chances weren't good. Then I realized that I had been contemplating breaking and entering. Charlie was probably turning in his grave.

I decided last minute to go to the café, maybe Lizzy was there. I knew sitting in an empty house would make me angrier and cause me to do something stupid. I would end up with the house looking worse than it had before I came.

I could still feel the anger rolling off me when I finally sat down in the small table in the corner that I sat in yesterday. I glared at the sky, oddly pleased that it matched my mood. Dark rolling masses of clouds filled the sky, threatening rain at any moment. In my masochistic mood I wanted it to rain. Maybe the water would cool me down...or give me pneumonia.

"Excuse me," I nearly jumped out of my chair, so caught in my dark reverie. It was obviously a waiter waiting for my order.

Without even looking I replied, "I don't want anything, thank you."

"I don't know, it sounded like you wanted that journal pretty badly." was the smart reply.

I whipped my head around to see the girl who opened the door last night. Impossibly pale with spiky black hair. I grumbled, "Doesn't seem to make a difference. Doesn't it bother you that he stole it from me?"

She smiled at that and sat down across from me. I scowled but allowed her to speak. She didn't seem affected by my mood as she replied, "It looked like you were ready to steal it right back. Two wrongs do not make a right."

I stood up, "Listen, I'm having a hard enough time trying to control my anger, and this isn't helping. I think I better go."

"Sit," she commanded and I did. Despite her short stature, she didn't look like someone to mess with. "Tell me what makes this journal so important to you. He's not your relative."

I fought for the right words, not noticing how she knew he wasn't my relative. "Haven't you ever found something that fascinates you? Edward Masen's journal holds a glimpse of what the past is like. Haven't you ever wondered how their story ends?"

"So you want to know how his story ends?" she sounded skeptical, "It was written in 1916, he dies. That's how it ends."

I shook my head, "That's how his life ended, that's how everyone's life ends but your story is much different."

She seemed to be assessing me and I felt suddenly self conscious. My initial interest for the journal had turned to a craving obsession. Not only that but now I was telling a girl who I didn't know and whose … brother had stolen it from me. I blushed.

"Look," I said, still bright red but trying to break the silence, "The journal was in my house, therefore belongs to me. I'm not going to destroy it, I want to read it."

She continued to stare at me before saying, "If I can get you and my brother to meet, will you promise to talk to him rationally, no yelling?"

I was surprised for a moment and then nodded eagerly. Maybe I could convince her brother to lend it to me.

She smiled radiantly, "Meet him here tomorrow after lunch. I'll make sure he's here." She got up to leave, "Oh and by the way, I'm Alice."

"Bella," I replied and watched her leave with the blonde haired boy I had seen before. I smiled to myself. I would convince Alice's brother to give me the journal one way or another.

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**Soooo? I hoped you liked it. :) Please review. They make me happy. And when the writer's happy the writer writes more. :P**


	7. Compromises

**Enjoy~**

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I went home soon after Alice had driven away. I had suddenly found myself extremely nervous, and I needed to rest.

This guy had stolen my journal, taken it from under my nose, and refused to admit that it was rightfully mine. The only way I would probably ever hear of Edward Masen again was if I could convince this thief to let me borrow my own book. How backward was that? I shouldn't have to stoop to begging like that. It was just a book, after all.

Just a book? No, Edward Masen was more than this simple journal. He was an actual person. He probably grew up and had children. Perhaps he went off to war, or he was stricken with some disease. What sort of impact did this boy have on the people around him? Did he change lives? From the few entries I had been able to read so far, Edward knew people so well…He was more than just one person to me; he was larger than life itself, and my house seemed almost consumed with his presence.

Without thinking, I found myself sitting in the apple tree that Edward had attempted to jump into so many years ago. Even after a century of growth, it was still many feet from the roof. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself as I imagined a nine year old boy jumping off the roof.

I sat there for most of the evening, deep in thought about Edward and his family. The only thing that finally got me out of the tree was when the mosquitoes started biting.

As I lay on my sleeping bags that night, my thoughts turned from Edward to Alice's brother.

What provoked him to steal my book? Why did he think it was rightfully his? I slowly drifted off to sleep, these questions swirling around in my mind.

I woke up much too early the next morning. Perhaps it was due to my nerves. When I looked out the window and realized that the sun was just barely on its way up, I groaned.

Not able to go back to sleep, I decided to occupy my time by cleaning a bit more. The plumber was set to come tomorrow…again, so I set to work scrubbing the bathroom. Of course, I made the classic mistake of mixing bleach and ammonia. Luckily I noticed before causing any permanent damage to myself.

I figured I'd let the house air out a bit before returning, so I got in my car and drove to the café. I looked at the clock and it was only 10 am. I contented myself by sitting in my car and watching the people pass.

Unfortunately people watching could not capture my attention so pulled out the diary lying next to me and began to read.

Two hours later, I was relieved to put down the Diary of Anne Frank. She was a nice girl but her abridged life left me feeling emptier than before. More than ever, I was yearning to read about Edward Masen.

It was about noontime, so I gladly exited my car and headed towards what I had already begun to think of as my table. As I reached my table I noticed that it already had an occupant.

Sitting there, attempting to look casual, was the boy who I had already begun to loathe. At least, I loathe him when he wasn't around. I knew perfectly well that if I wasn't so angry at him, I'd be swooning. He wasn't allowed to find out about that though.

As I sat down across from him, I noticed his grip on the table tighten while attempting to smile pleasantly at me. I, too, made an effort to appear cordial, but my smile looked more like a grimace in comparison.

We sat like that for awhile, staring 'pleasantly' at each other. I tried to distract myself, but I could not bring myself to speak. Without my anger, any words I had to say were lost in my throat. The longer I looked into his eyes, the shyer I felt. Plus I had already made enough of a fool of myself in our other encounters but speaking before thinking. Perhaps I could change that reputation.

Finally the waiter came and asked what we would like. He smiled warmly at us, blind to our tension.

"I've already eaten," the boy across from me said. He looked at me, "What would you like?

I wanted to say that I didn't want anything but I had woken up early and I was starting to feel the effects. I ordered the first thing I saw with caffeine.

As soon as the waiter left, we relapsed into silence. After a few seconds, though, the boy begun to hum absentmindedly.

After what seemed like an eternity, the waiter finally came out with my drink. As he walked off I took a hesitant sip. I nearly spat it back out.

"Ugh," I exclaimed, "What did I just order?"

The boy across from me watched, amused, as I peered into the brown concoction that was my beverage. I pushed it away from me, no longer needing the pick me up. The boy chuckled softly.

"Did you even look at the menu?" he asked.

"No," I admitted embarrassed. I should have ordered the usual but in my haste I wasn't thinking clearly. He laughed again, a musical laugh, and I couldn't help but smile a little, even if it was at my expense.

I peeked up at him and swallowed my nerves. I was no longer able to keep the silence, "So, do you think I could have my journal back?"

"You certainly aren't one to be distracted." He commented dryly and I blushed. He was thoughtful for a moment, "It wouldn't be wise to allow you to keep it."

"Why not?" I asked, trying not to sound like a whiny child.

He was quiet for a moment, "This journal is very precious and I cannot simply relinquish it to anyone who asks."

"But-" I started. He held up a hand.

"I do not believe it has been read by anyone before…" he paused, "What do you think of this Edward Masen?"

"Well, I haven't read the majority of it yet, but I find the story of his life fascinating. He goes from being a reluctant writer to an eager one," I found myself talking for five minutes, forgetting my anger for once and ending with begging.

"Please," I said, looking pleadingly at him. "Please let me finish it, I want to know the end."

The boy looked thoughtful, studying my features. He sighed.

"Here is the deal," he said, "I will allow you to borrow this journal."

"Thank you!" I breathed. I held out my hands eagerly for the journal. He hesitated.

"On one condition. I wish to know you thoughts on what you read. We can meet … twice a week." He said.

Naturally, I quickly agreed and we decide to meet in a few days. As we were heading to our vehicles I stopped short,

"Wait," I called, "What's your name?"

He smiled wryly, "My name is Edward Cullen."

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**Reviews?**


	8. Obsession

**Slowly but surely I'm working through the writer's block. I'm actually meeting with Prongs J. Potter this next week so maybe we can work on it.**

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November 27, 1916

Dear Journal,

Mother has decided to do a cleaning frenzy to impress her sister, my aunt, which no one particularly likes. She smells unbearably like prunes and whines about everything. She is fourteen years mother's senior and took it in her head to boss my mother around. She treats her one and only nephew like garbage because apparently when I was little I ruined her best dress.

My belief is that we should lock all doors and windows and go out for thanksgiving, but no. I spent the better part of my day moving furniture and cleaning every speck of the house.

Thankfully William came by and announced that Woodrow Wilson won the presidential election and that stopped the ceaseless cleaning for the day.

Father just arrived with my aunt and as a well-civilized nephew, I should greet her. I wonder if she likes spiders.

Edward

It had been two weeks since my initial encounter with Edward Cullen and I was currently on my way to meet him again. I was getting somewhat used to our meetings. I would read an entry a night and every few days I would meet with Edward Cullen to converse what I read about Edward Masen.

I parked my car in its usual place outside the café and searched for him. On particularly sunny days like today he preferred to sit inside. I peered through the dark café. There! Cullen was sitting in the corner farthest away from the windows. Of course he was here before me.

I had the strange dilemma about how to address Edward Cullen when talking about Edward Masen. In my head I differentiated by last names but that sounded inappropriate in normal conversation. The only way I could figure it out was to refer to Masen as "he" and call Cullen "Edward" or "you".

He flashed a brilliant half smile my way as I approached and sat across from him. I felt my heart skip a beat or two and my breathing became ragged. Why did his perfection always have to dazzle me so?

"So what has our favorite person done today?" he asked. I smiled; he always started the conversation that way to which I responded….

"What can I get you?" I turned my head to scowl at a waitress that had obviously come to flirt.

Polite as ever Cullen said, "I'm fine" Of course not, Cullen never seemed to eat when I was around.

The waitress reluctantly turned to me and I sharply told her, "I'd like an iced tea."

Thoroughly interrupted, I didn't feel the need to answer Cullen's first question so I supplied my own, "If you don't like the food that much, why do we meet here?"

"I thought it imprudent to ask myself over, naturally. We could attempt a private conversation at my apartment but with four siblings it would be difficult." He replied casually.

I felt my face go crimson before I realized I was staring into his eyes. They were golden but darker than usual.

I blinked several times and averted my gaze, "I don't mind meeting at my house." I barely noticed as the waitress gave me my drink and check. Did I just invite him over?

"Then it's settled, I'll come over in two days time at two p.m."

"Well," I glanced at the clock, "the people dropping off my furniture called this morning and I'd hoped they would have come already but I don't want it just sitting there. Do you think you could just follow me home and we continue there?"

He was silent for a moment, fighting some kind of inner debate, and then smiled suddenly, as if he finally decided how to make something work. "Why don't I pay for your drink and meet you at your house? I bet I can beat you."

It was against my nature to resist a direct challenge like that so I wrote directions on a napkin. As I headed to my car. I stole a quick glance back and saw him staring after me, obviously holding back laughter, acting like he had all the time in the world.

I almost ran into his Volvo when I turned in my driveway. It was so unexpectantly there. I scowled, how did he get here so fast? Closing the door a little harder that necessary I walked up to the porch. It didn't improve my mood to find my furniture waiting under the porch's shade.

"You forgot you drink," he said smiling and handed it to me. I took it from him and lead him into the house.

"Would you like to tell me how you got here so fast?" I asked.

He smiled secretly and responded, "Trade secret."

I sighed, frustrated, and put my things on the counter before going out for my furniture. Everything had come; my futon, bookshelf, coffee table, the TV, the small table with chairs, the microwave, the toaster, even the stove and the fridge, despite the fact I wouldn't be able to install them.

"Hey Edward!" I called, "Want to come make yourself useful?"

He was out in a trice lifting the futon as easily as he would a kitten. I couldn't help but notice that he put a little too much effort into it in a way that you could tell. Like he wasn't sure how much effort he should show.

After all was done I plopped on my brand new futon sipping my tea while Edward leaned against the wall.

"You still haven't told me what entry you read," he commented.

"No, I guess I haven't," I smiled, remembering "He was cleaning his house to prepare for his aunt coming. It made me scour the house for some kind of photo album."

Edward's eyes seem to go flat, "And did you find one?"

"No," I answered quickly, frightened by his odd reaction, "The only pictures I could find were so faded you couldn't make them out."

As I lead Edward out of my house, I realized I wasn't only fascinated by one Edward but both. Each entry caused me to hunger to learn what Edward Masen was like, and in turn, what Edward Cullen was like. The sudden mood change made me wonder, what was Edward hiding?

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**Happy fourth of July, which is Independence day in the USA. Good barbaque, great fireworks and loads of fun. :)**

**Please review~**


	9. Background

**Sorry! My life is increasing in activity. I'm trying to get all the chapters out as quickly as possible. I hope you enjoy it!**

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Now that Edward was coming to my house, I felt more eager than ever to make my house clean. The day that Edward was to come, I found myself ceaselessly dusting, sweeping, and wiping things down. Not only that, but I was constantly looking in the mirror to fix stray strands of hair. Thirty minutes until 2:00, I began to get nervous. I quickly put away the broom, washed my hands and face, redid my simple ponytail (for the fourth time), and sat down at the kitchen table.

I found myself staring blankly at the clock sitting perfectly still. He still had fifteen minutes to show, but what if he changed his mind? Edward Cullen always looked so hesitant around me, and I could tell that he had to really think it over before he came here.

What was he hiding? I couldn't help but wonder what the connection between my Edwards was.

Suddenly, I was shaken from my reverie by a gentle knock at the door. I looked at the clock as I jumped to my feet. It was 2:00 on the dot. Figures.

I quickly opened the door and let him pass into my kitchen. I was immediately made aware of at least twenty things I should have done to make the room look nice, but I knew it was a bit late for any more clean-up. So instead, I found myself staring awkwardly at Edward Cullen.

Thankfully he wasn't staring at me like he usually did. His gaze was boring into the piano. I bit my lip, "The piano came with the house. Do you play?"

He nodded as he moved towards it, his fingers brushed against the polished wood. "I used to have one similar to this," he murmured absentmindedly. The way he said it and the possessive look in his eyes seemed to say that he had owned that piano. I chided myself. It wasn't his piano, it couldn't be.

"You can play it if you like. I had it tuned last week," I said softly.

Hesitantly it seemed, he sat down and played the most beautiful tune. I gasped in amazement. I saw him smile his adorable crooked grin as he finished playing and turned to me.

He shook his head, as if to dispel memories, and sat down at my kitchen table. I sat across from him. We exchanged the usual conversation but the entry I had read wasn't as exciting. Edward Masen was complaining about his aunt more. He was ranting really. It made me laugh but it did not take up much conversation.

Suddenly, I wasn't sure how, but the conversation turned to me. I had been sure to keep it away from me since I met him. Edward was so much more fascinating, but even more allusive when it came to questions about himself or his family. Edward asked, "Why exactly did you buy this house?"

My face darkened and I glared at the wall, the usual anger spurring me to talk. Fortunately I kept it to a bare minimum, "I came to get away. I wasn't smart as I should have been."

Edward's forehead furrowed, "Why didn't you move to your dad's house. Your parents were divorced, correct?"

I shifted in my chair. "I would have, but Charlie died a few years back." I gave a sigh of longing. I really missed him, I just didn't know how much until he was gone and I was stuck with Renee and Phil.

Edward seemed to notice my sighing, he asked, "What was he like?"

I smiled, "A lot like me. Quiet, reserved, but protective. He never remarried." I replied, my voice cracking. It was nice to tell someone, but I wasn't sure I could say much more.

Thankfully, Edward decided to randomly change the topic again. He asked me about pets, which was one goldfish that died after three hours, and things I liked and disliked. Now, I wasn't one to talk about myself, but Edward wouldn't allow me to ask any questions.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" I blurted out. I was so desperate to get the conversation away from me; I spewed the first thing that came to mind. My inept attempt made me grow beat red with embarrassment.

He smirked, whether at my question or at my face I wasn't sure, "No. I do not have a girlfriend. I have my family and myself and that is enough." He murmured something that sounded like, "or so I thought," but his voice was too soft for me to be definite. Before I could ask another he said, "What about you? Anyone I need to know before they come bursting through the door?"

I was going to reply sarcastically….I think, but he looked up at me with his golden eyes and my thoughts scattered. "No," I squeaked.

He leaned in, "That makes life very lonely."

I bit my lip and looked away, trying to focus my thoughts. "Yeah, whatever. It's not so bad. I'm doing fine, really." It sounded like I was trying to convince myself though.

He leaned away and scrutinized my face. "I am willing to bet that you are hurting more than you let on."

I glared at him, "What's it to you?" I demanded.

He got up, making a show of leaving and I cursed my anger. I shouldn't have snapped at him, but he hit a sore spot dead on. I leaned on the doorway. "Edward," I called, "I'm sorry I shouldn't have-"

He smiled crookedly and I sighed in relief, glad that he didn't seem so angry. Hesitantly and quickly he brushed the hair strand that had fallen in my face. He stroked my cheek lightly and in an instant he was gone. Leaving me with shock and butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

I touched my cheek where his hand left a trail, feeling hot and cold at the exact same time. I smiled, my eyes vacant, and shook my head. I realized just how far I had fallen for Edward Cullen.

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**Please review!**


	10. Phone Call

**So Sorry about the delay. Unfortunately my life is picking up accordingly with summer. To try and make up for my absence I am going to post a chapter today, Sat., Sun, and Mon. After that there's no guarantee. :(**

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I was woken up to a shrill, demanding ring in my ear. I sat up straight and lunged for the phone. Only one person had this number, only one person would actually call.

"Mom?" I asked breathlessly as I answered the phone.

"Hello darling Bella!" she said enthusiastically over the phone. I groaned internally, did she have to call on my day off? "How are you my dear?"

"I'm okay," I told her hesitating of saying anything.

"Of course you are! And I'm sure you love the new house too. It's absolutely adorable. When the salesman spoke of it, I had to get it for you." she gushed.

"Well, not exactly. I mean it doesn't have that 'homey' feel. Mom, I have to speak plain with you, this house-"

"I can't talk long honey," Renee interrupted. I sighed, I knew what that meant. "I only really called to tell you the news. Phil got signed on! We'll be moving to Jacksonville. I picked out the house today and we're packing up everything. Is there anything you want us to keep?"

"Well, actually there are some things, maybe I could come down for a bit," I started.

"Nonsense! You're too busy with college and being my mature daughter. How about I just pack it up and keep it in the attic for now. Yes, that sounds great." She continued to ramble on about the house and all the things she plans to do.

"Mom, wait, how many rooms in the house are there?" I asked.

"Well, our room and the guest room which I'm thinking about doing in red and gold. It'll turn out beautifully, I'm sure." She paused, someone on the other line was talking, "Oh, that's Phil! Bye, darling, I'll pass on your hello." The line went dead.

I held the phone in my lap, staring at it, processing the information. I would be a stranger in my parents' house, not worthy of calling a room my own. Five minutes with my mom and I felt as if somebody punched me in the gut. I looked around the room, feeling as if I didn't really belong anywhere.

After the phone call I attempted to continue cleaning the house. It was looking better and I had clean water. Most of the rooms were not uninhabitable anymore. Unfortunately the phone call had set off my mood for the day. I could not find the energy need to work on this decrepit home.

Sometime mid afternoon the doorbell rang. I went through a mental checklist in my head to see if I was expecting someone. I frowned and opened the door.

"Lizzy?" I asked dumbstruck. When did I tell her where I live?

"Heya Bells! How's cleaning the house?" she asked, chipper as usual. I laughed, feeling immensely better.

"It's okay," I said as I showed her in, "Although I find myself very unmotivated today." I didn't tell her about the conversation with my mother that caused me to feel bitter and dejected.

"Good thing I stopped by then!" She said happily, sitting down on the couch facing the TV. "Looks nice. You've done wonders if it was half as bad as you said it was."

"Worse," I replied, joining her on the couch. "What brings you over here?" I asked; I knew she lived on the other side of the city. It wasn't a short drive.

"I was at Theo's when I realized I've never seen the infamous Swan residence." She laughed, "I don't envy you."

I laughed as well. I knew there was something in her life that made her want to get away but I didn't push her. We didn't know each other well enough to open up. "Glad to be of service. How are you liking the estate, madam?"

She relaxed on the couch, "I wouldn't mind owning my own house if it looked this well. Although the porch is a sight."

I smiled sheepishly. I hadn't gotten to the porch yet. It was still in shambles, although I had created somewhat of a walkway to the front door. "It wasn't high on my to-do list when I got here."

Then the doorbell rang again and I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Well, if this keeps up, people might think someone lives here," I mumbled. Lizzy laughed.

I opened the door and was face to face with Edward Cullen. The day had turned cloudy and the wind was tousling his hair. I gaped as my mind raced. Was it that time already? I looked at the clock and calendar on the wall. 4:00 Saturday. I had completely forgotten.

"Edward," I squeaked, "I'm so sorry, I forgot you were coming."

He smiled crookedly and my knees threaten to give out, "Should I come back at a more convenient time?"

Lizzy had come up behind me, still laughing, "Of course not! I was just dropping by. Come in. I'm Elizabeth by the way."

Edward stepped into the house and I managed to find the use of my mouth, "We were just talking. She startled me when she came by."

Edward smiled politely at Lizzy, "I wouldn't want to interrupt your conversation."

She backed away towards the door. "Don't be ridiculous, you aren't. I was one my way out. My parents will be worried where I am soon."

Another wave of dejection hit me as she mentioned parents. I tried to shake it off and gave Lizzy a hug, "Be careful. And don't be afraid to surprise me more often."

She smiled brilliantly and ran to her car. The weather had taken a turn for the worse and seemed to threaten rain. She waved as she pulled away from sight.

I turned towards Edward and sat down across from him. He had the journal in his hands and was flipping through it, smiling absentmindedly. "I didn't really get to read it," I confessed, unsure if he would leave or not.

He looked up, his eyes bright with some emotion, "Would you like me to read it to you?"

I thought about it and nodded enthusiastically. I leaned forward on the table, resting my chin in my hands. He began to read:

"February 8th, 1917

Dear Journal,

I am beginning to wonder if the United States of America will stay out of this war. It seems too big not to join into. Despite people being unwilling I am ready to make any sacrifice needed to keep my land safe. I have even heard that William plans to join the army, before a draft is set in place.

Speaking this to my mother I found she was adamant that I would not be going. She did not think her son should be 'sent to death or worse' in her words. It was the worst argument we have gotten into in a long time. I am still angry as I write this.

I suppose I am not angry at her or father but it seems that they do not understand the need to go. If this war is still going on when I reach the age of manhood, I do not believe I will have a choice.

I shall go apologize to mother. She means well and I am her only child. She shouldn't have to go through my anger, even if she doesn't understand.

Edward"

Edward stopped reading and looked up at me. I was stunned. Edward brought the story to life. I could almost see Edward Masen scribbling this down in a furious haste. I bit my lip and looked away. Reality came back hard. My mother didn't seem to understand either.

"Bella, are you alright," Edward asked, concerned. I desperately tried to hold back my emotions. I knew I was failing completely.

"I-I'm fine, it's just my mom. She called this morning." I blubbered through the conversation. My emotions came out raw and tender.

Again he stroked my cheek, although this time was more out of comfort. I sighed. "Bella, it's okay."

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to get you into this." I mumbled. "It kind of ruined the day." I straightened. It helped to get this of my chest. I felt immensely better. "I'm much better, thank you for listening."

He smiled tenderly. "Anytime Bella." He looked outside as if someone had called out his name. The sky was dark and pouring. "Although I think I must get home."

I led him to the door and watched him as he went to his car, the wind whipping at his clothes and hair. I smiled. It felt so nice to talk to him, almost natural. Despite my uneasiness to confide to in someone, I was glad I talked to Edward. I shut the door, sighing in contentment.

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**Aww, poor Bella. She is falling hard for edward. :)**


	11. Death

**I had trouble with this one. But I hope you like it.**

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I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard it. A soft rapping on my door. I dismissed it the first time. The light knocking on my door was easily disregarded to the raging storm outside. Wind was something Chicago did not lack. Then there was a second knocking, more urgent this time. Thinking it was someone who had been caught in the storm, I tied my wet hair in a bun and went to the door.

To my utmost surprise and embarrassment it was Edward. I immediately became aware of the way I was dressed and how horrible I must have looked. I tried waving the emotions aside. "Did you have car trouble?" I asked, looking out, I could barley see the Volvo in the rain.

The pained look on his face made me hesitate on inviting him inside. Before he spoke I felt a cold tremor rush through me, "Bella, it's about Lizzy," he paused, "I'm so sorry."

My mind shut down, I couldn't comprehend what he was trying to tell me. "Li-Lizzy?" my voice broke.

"She was in an accident on the way home. My father was there when they brought her in." he paused again, struggling for words. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized he never had problems talking. ""She…she didn't make it Bella."

I let out an anguished cry and grabbed my keys off the counter. I didn't care that there was a torrential rainstorm outside or that I was wearing grungy pajamas. I had to do something. I refused to believe she was dead. My luck couldn't be that bad.

Unfortunately of perhaps fortunately Edward is stronger than I am and he caught me around the waist as I tried going to my car. I thrashed. I kicked. I did anything to breaking his grip, probably giving myself bruises.

"I have to go" I repeated over and over, my eyes becoming blurry as tears spilled over.

"There's nothing you can do Bella. It's too late." He murmured trying to make me see reason, but my mind was closed.

Eventually my flailing died down as I realized that he was right, there was nothing I could do. I stopped repeating the same stupid phrase and sobbed not so quietly into Edward's shirt. If he felt awkward or uncomfortable he didn't show it. "I don't have anyone Edward! My dad, my mom, Lizzy, they're all gone."

Edward rubbed circles into my back as he tried to comfort me but my bad day wouldn't loosen its grip on me. Only until Edward's phone buzzed did I regain some composure. He looked at his phone and then returned it to his pocket. Hesitantly I pulled away from Edward. "You should go home," I said, my voice sounding like I had been screaming for hours on end. "Your parents are probably worried."

"They know where I am." He said quietly, making it obvious that he knew I shouldn't be left alone. It was nice, in an odd kind of way. Awkwardly I stumbled over to my futon, where I promptly collapsed. I looked back to see Edward studying me. Noticing my gaze he gave me a half grin, "Would you like some tea?"

I gave a grateful smile and he disappeared into my kitchen. Five minutes later Edward came out with a steaming cup. A comforting aroma filled the room. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I always loved the smell of warm tea. It was clean and refreshing, warm and inviting.

He handed me the cup and I took a sip. Warmth entered that helped me gain more composure. Edward sat next to me. I felt guilty breaking down in front of him like that. I looked down and traced the rim of the cup. "Thank you Edward. It's just…I don't seem to fit in anywhere. I-I can't find a place to call home."

I paused, "What is it like," I started hesitantly, "to have a big family?"

He seemed startled for a moment but his facial expression quickly turned thoughtful, "It's crazy most of the time. Trying to get something done is almost impossible. We all have different views. But," he looked up at me, "even surrounded by my family it can be very lonely."

I remembered seeing his family, how they were all paired off except for him, and how he told me he didn't have a girlfriend. I realized he was the only one who could understand my position.

Slowly, carefully, I started my story. At least part of it. It was time for Edward to understand why I was so crazy before. "I never really enjoyed being a part of big crowds. It was like I didn't quite fit in with the people my age. My mom would tease me saying I was born middle aged. I didn't mind too much though. I was never a social butterfly. But then Charlie got sick. I realized that the fewer people that I had come to know and loved meant that I depended on them more. It broke my heart when Charlie died. And when my mom remarried I lost her too." I paused to collect myself, "When I came here I thought I could change that. That I would be able to hold onto the people I loved."

Edward took the cup from my hands and grabbed my hands with his. I didn't know how much I was shaking. Maybe I wasn't as put together as I thought I was. "Bella," he murmured softly, "I promise you don't have to go through anything alone."

His words were soft as he stroked the wet trails the tears had left on my cheek. It was swift and barely touching my skin but I found comfort in it. Exhaustion hit me like a wall as his reassurances settled in. I sagged in my futon so I pulled my knees to my chest. I rested my chin on them, refusing to sleep while Edward was here. As usual he seemed to read my mind.

"You can sleep Bella," he said with a quiet laugh.

"Sleep's overrated," I mumbled as my eyes slid closed of their own accord. My version of reality warped as I felt Edward pick me up. Even in my half dead state I was hyperaware of him, but my mind twisted everything. I couldn't make anything make sense.

I sank deeper into my dream world as my head hit the pillow. Maybe I was already dreaming. I must have been because I could have sworn I felt Edward's lips on my forehead.

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**S0? Did he kiss her? Or was it just her imagination. Only I know. :D**


	12. Funeral

**Thabks for all the kind reviews! This chapter is kinda depressing but I hope you enjoy it all the same!**

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The day of the funeral dawned bright but I was in no mood to appreciate it. In my opinion it should be illegal to be so sunny as if any good could come out of today. Today my first friend in Chicago was being put in the ground.

Eventually I dragged myself to my closet and eyed my one suitable dress. It wasn't black but dark blue. Unfortunately it was the only one I had so I put it on.

Despite my delaying and foreboding I got there early. I took a seat in the back, feeling more out of place as more people came in. If I was honest with myself the reason I was watching the door so intensely was because I wanted to see a certain bronze haired boy. I don't remember if I had actually invited him or not but Edward was always so attuned to me. Surely he would help me get through this.

Because of this stupid idea that relief would come I was even more desolate when the ceremony started and he hadn't shown. I tried listening to the speaker but I couldn't tell if this middle aged man actually knew Lizzy or not. It didn't sound like her. Not once did he mention her laughter. She loved to laugh in the worst situations, saying it was better to laugh than cry. It helped to think she would have wanted me to laugh at her own funeral. She'd probably make jokes at her own expense. I sighed and looked up. The guy was done talking, people were leaving.

I stood, made my way to the family and paid my condolences. Despite never seeing or hearing much about them, they knew me. It surprised me how much of an impact I had made on Lizzy in such a short time. My black mood worsened as I went home alone.

At home the biggest activity I did was change into my tank top and sweatpants. Once I was comfortable I collapsed on my futon. I was content with staring blankly at the TV until my eyes drifted to the innocent looking journal on my table. Grief was replaced with anger as I picked the journal up and chunked it at the wall.

"Stupid, unreliable people!" I screamed, feeling oddly satisfied with the loud thud as the packet of paper made contact with the wall.

There was a moment of silence then the doorbell rang, shocking me out of my reverie. I looked outside to see the day had grown to night unnoticed in my grief and anger. Then another image hit me. There was a sliver Volvo outside. Anger returned again on full boil.

Wanting to start on a strong note I picked up the much abused journal and flung it at the unsuspecting Edward when I opened the door. "What do you want?" I demanded.

He looked like I had punched him in the gut as he deftly caught the journal. His eyes were full of pain. "I came to apologize, Bella."

"Why didn't you come? You knew how much it meant to me!" I said, my voice breaking to betray my pain.

There was a flash of anger in his golden eyes when he said, "Because of who I am."

The odd revelation and anger, towards himself it seemed, broke my irate composure. "What?" I asked, startled.

He pinched the bridge his nose as the anger was pushed away. When he looked at me his eyes were soft and pleading, "I have no excuse. I'm so sorry Bella."

Not forgetting the pain I said quietly, "I'm sorry too Edward but I don't what to be hurt anymore." I closed the door softly and leaned against the wood.

Not even five minutes later the doorbell rang again. With the full intent to apologize for my atrocious behavior I opened the door to face…nothing. No Edward, no Volvo. Just a nighttime scene of my front porch, which wasn't pretty. I looked down disappointed, to find the journal lying open.

Hesitantly I picked it up and almost started crying as I read the entry it was opened to.

March 1917

Dear Journal,

You are owned by the biggest loser and most pathetic excuse for a man the world has ever seen. I deserved the punch. I deserved the hateful look I had received. I've never felt so ashamed in my life. The day my closest friend leaves for battle is the day I choose to pick a fight. I am truly despicable.

I bit back tears as I turned to a page that had been bookmarked by a folded sheet of paper. I looked at the entry briefly.

September 1917

I didn't know what to say. As I walked up to the grave that held my friend, all I could remember was the horrible last meeting we had. I closed my eyes, trying to summon the words to say a final goodbye. We had made up over letters but… All I could say was I'm sorry. It was the only thing I could think of that was appropriate. William deserved better…

I could barely control my emotions by now. I had already read these entries before. I remembered the impact they had on me then and it was nothing compared to now. With shaking hands I unfolded the paper, ready for more heartache. In elegant script Edward had left one last attempt for an apology. I felt like a monster.

Dearest Bella,

I behaved like a cad. I made a promise to you. I allowed you to trust me and then broke such a trust. It was wrong of me to do such a thing. I ask for your humblest apologies despite the fact that I am undeserving.

I looked around in a vain hope that I would see Edward. I had behaved horribly to him. It was wrong for me to take out my anger on him. I let out a deep sigh and went back into the house. I was reminded of what Lizzy's mom told me at the funeral,

"You made her happy in a way we could not." As I got into bed I wondered if anyone could act in the way I did today and deserve such a compliment. Thoroughly wretched I succumbed myself to dreams and nightmares.

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**What did you think? I was kinda pleased with how this chapter turned out. Please tell me your thoughts!**


	13. Apologies

**Next Chapter! :D Unfortunately I don't know when I'll be able to update again. I'm starting college and so you'll have to be patient. Please Enjoy~**

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The first day he didn't show I expected it. The second day I grew nervous. On the third day with storm clouds filling the sky and still no Edward I was thoroughly wretched. He must be blaming himself or thought I couldn't stand the mere mention of him. I felt horrible. Unable to stay away any longer I got in my truck and drove to his apartment.

I realized the first day that Edward was not at all required to go to a funeral. I put myself in his place and realized what an awkward position it was. He didn't know Lizzy. He met her once before her death. And he's just gotten to know me. What would make him want to come to a funeral where the only person he would know would be sobbing? Plus, now that I thought about it, I don't think I ever truly invited him or asked him to come. I can't expect Edward to read my thoughts and get mad when he doesn't.

It took me ten minutes once I got there to summon the courage to talk to him. Perhaps he didn't want to talk to me. Maybe he was avoiding me because he couldn't stand the mention of me. With a great sigh I walked up to the apartment and knocked. Thinking I was ready to face him, I was relieved to see that it was a young woman who answered the door.

"Hello," she practically sang, "You must be Bella."

I winced, his whole family seemed to know me. I cleared my throat, "Y-yes, is Edward here?"

I could nearly see her pity for me. Her eyes flashed to the room behind her and I almost knew that Edward was there. He just didn't want to see me. "I'm sorry dear, he isn't home."

I nodded and thought over my next words. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was about how I reacted but I wasn't going to tell his whole family about it. I took a deep breath, "Could you tell him that there's still more to the story?"

She smiled at me and replied, "Of course I can."

"Thanks," I murmured as I walked away. This didn't help at all. Edward didn't want me in his life.

Slowly I walked down the stairs to my car. As I stepped outside it started to rain. A few stray drops of water hit me but I could care less. I couldn't cry so the sky was crying for me. I shook my head. Any more of those kind of thoughts and I'd be slitting my wrists. I should be pining for a boy I just met, right? Too bad I was and couldn't stop.

The drive home was morbid enough to scare away the happiest person on earth. I was glaring at the road in front of me and was not at all sympathetic when I almost hit two people crossing the road.

The only thing that shook me out of my daze was the silver Volvo sitting innocently in my driveway. I slammed on my brakes and stared in shock as I climbed out.

"Edward?" I called out hesitantly.

The boy in question climbed out of the car and strode over to me. "Bella, I'm so sorry. I should not have behaved so wrongly."

I tackled him with a hug, but before I could register what I had done I stepped away. Was I too forward? A friend could hug another friend right? I ignored these questions and said, "No, I'm sorry. I overreacted." I paused, squinting up at him in the rain, "Would you like to come in out of the rain?"

He smiled, my favorite crooked smile, "It would be an honor."

I led him inside with almost giddy relief. I was ready to put such an awful fight in the past where it belonged; Forgotten and collecting dust. As I entered inside I realized the mess my house had become. I had stopped the cleaning frenzy when Edward left. I shook my head. I was a mess.

We sat at the table across from each other. Edward stared at me for a moment in a way that made me blush and then asked, "So have you read anymore entries?"

I looked up at him, embarrassed, "No, I uh, didn't get to it." I wondered why he was asking.

Edward studied me again and his face fell, "This is so wrong Bella."

Confused by the turn of conversation I asked what any confused person would ask, "What are you talking about?"

He looked at me sadly for some reason, "I shouldn't have such an effect on you."

Now, I could have easily responded angrily that it had nothing to do with him, but I was a horrible liar, especially around Edward. Instead I flushed and responded, "I'm fine."

He gave me a disbelieving look and I sighed. The career of an actress was a definite out. "Look, there's nothing you can do so can we just forget it?"

He leaned back, which made me realize how close he had been, "Well, I don't think I can stay away from you anyway, so I suppose it's moot point."

I tried not to look relieved and probably failed but Edward didn't let on. Conversation flowed easier from there. I knew it was still bothering him by how obsessed I was. I would be creeped out by some random girl going into nearly lethal depression because she didn't see him for three days. Eventually the sun set and Edward got up to leave. I saw him to the door.

"So I'll read some more entries and see you at the usual time?" I asked, trying not to sound too infatuated.

He smiled, dazzling me in the process. Then a thoughtful expression appeared on his face. He reached out and stroked my cheek, a swift caress. I smiled at the icy hot streak his hand had left behind. I fell asleep with a smile still on my face.

I had strange dreams that night. Edward stood before me in old style clothes. They were the clothes I had seen in the picture of Edward Masen. I smiled involuntarily. The connection between them seemed to dissolve in my dream. Cullen and Masen weren't two different people. They were the same.

I stepped forward, gladly accepting this impossible reality. Then Edward smiled seductively, reaching out to me. His perfect smile was not so perfect but had pointed fangs and his mesmerizing golden eyes were dark, black and menacing. He was dangerous and I couldn't stop moving forward.

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**Yay for dreams~ She's starting to piece everything together, at least on a subconscious level. ^_^ Please review.**


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